Son of Brightwell

The conversation between the two families continued with when, where, and how the ceremony would be held, how many people would be attending, and who they would be.

Considering the political ties each family had, it was necessary that no one important felt forgotten.

Celeste drank her third cup of green tea that night when she dared to glance at Avond, who was speaking with her father.

There was a touch of amusement on his lips and what looked like a healed cut on his face. It stretched sideways from the inner corner of his left eye to the end of his jaw. It should have spoiled his face, but rather it added to his charm.

Celeste then glanced over at Tiel, who was looking at her, annoyed.

Did it bother him that she glanced at his brother? Or was he just annoyed because it was her he was marrying and not Orion?

"Would you like to come outside and take a walk with me?" Tiel asked suddenly.

This unexpectedly took everyone's attention. Erick smiled, "It's good that you've come around to it already, son. Why don't you two get to know each other? Hmm?"

Even if Celeste could speak, she knew well enough she could only say yes. So she smiled as if she meant it and then nodded. Under the watchful eyes of her parents, Celeste followed after Tiel, who led the way out.

Her heart beat faster as she joined her future husband in a private walk.

This was her first opportunity to get to know him.

Together they walked to the garden, where the pavilion stood surrounded by water and a small piece of land where beautiful bushes grew thick.

On the white pebbled path, small lanterns stood, casting warm yellow light as the sun's last traces of light left them under a blanket of darkness.

Celeste walked one step behind him, wondering what Orion would say. The things she wanted to say, Celeste thought, were generic and simple. 

Disappointed that she couldn't find anything worth saying, Celeste stayed silent, hoping Tiel would say something first, considering he didn't need a notebook.

In the silence, she looked at him shyly, noticing how Tiel had grown from the snotty boy to this intimidating adult male. Gone were the skinny legs and soft round face. He was now tall and muscular, with broad shoulders and sharp features. She did not even recognize him.

"So… you are your family's savior," he said without looking back. "It's a pity, isn't it? That we don't get to be with the person we want?"

Celeste quickly opened her purse, where her small notebook was kept. She started writing an answer, which warranted a laugh from Tiel.

"This is going to be an interesting marriage. If not slow and tiring," he said that last part under his breath, taking the notebook Celeste offered him. His words had stung, but she ignored them.

"Yes, it is a pity. I'm sorry I'm not Orion."

"I also don't want to marry her, honestly. It's just that if I could choose, I'd rather have her than you," Tiel answered without looking at her. He went on, "In fact, unlike him, I remember you. I knew from the beginning I was going to end up with you. Orion's too precious to be married off to someone like me."

His last words caught her attention. Celeste blinked at that, wondering what he meant by someone like him. She knew enough that his father owned casinos and gambling dens. Was he... a gambler?

Celeste began to sweat at the thought of that. She wanted to ask him if he was a gambler, but instead, she asked, "But didn't your father promise you, my sister? What was the agreement between you two?" Considering that he had leverage over her family, it wasn't that difficult.

But Celeste didn't write that last part. It was too long.

"The agreement? There was no agreement. I was to marry, and that was final. I let my request be known, and he said done. But plans change, I suppose," Tiel explained, sounding bored midway.

He was not amused by this conversation. She didn't blame him.

"You know, I'm not so bad once you get to know me," Celeste wrote, trying to cheer him up. Sure, she was a far cry from the charming and beautiful Orion. But she could listen and play the piano.

"Oh yeah? What's so good about you?" he asked, curiously.

"I know when to be quiet," she wrote, which warranted a laugh from Tiel.

"Fair game," he said, handing her back the notebook.

Afterward, the mood became less heavy. Celeste followed him silently until finally, they reached the pavilion. The entrance was beautifully framed by the thick bushes growing around it. Long yellow buds hung from the branches, like raindrops around them.

It would have looked so beautiful once they bloomed, Celeste thought while she took a spot next to Tiel. He had decided to take a seat on the steps of the pavilion, which further warranted their privacy.

He sat leaning forward, with both elbows resting on his knees. Like this, he looked a lot younger.

Celeste quickly wrote on her notepad and then gave it to him: "Is there someone you already know you would like to marry?"

"Yes. Of course," Tiel replied, returning her gaze with a much darker look than she had expected. Celeste wondered what that would mean for their marriage, but then she decided that it wasn't her place to ask for any exclusivity anyway. They didn't marry for love.

"I won't trouble you," she wrote to him.

Tiel snorted, "No trouble to me? You're already trouble to me. I have to wait for you to write your answers; do you know how annoying that is?" he demanded.

"I'm sorry. But you can always learn sign language. I can speak quickly with that," Celeste replied. Tiel sighed dramatically, shifting his position so that he could lean against the pillar next to him.

"Do you think I have all the free time in the world? I have to work, and sometimes the hours in one day aren't enough to finish it. We're not married yet, and you already want to add this to my plate?"

Celeste shook her head. She didn't mean to add to his plate, only that it would make their lives easier while she continued therapy. She had spent her life writing answers to everyone she knew.

Years ago, when her father had arranged for a sign language teacher to come to teach her, Celeste had thought her family would learn along with her.

But the only one who ever put any effort into learning the language was her father, and when they spoke, it had been like a breath of fresh air.

However, it was rare— as rare as a loving touch from her stepmother or the company of her half-sister. Like a wall, more often than not, he told her to go to her room before she could finish saying a sentence.

"I can teach you. One hour every day before sleep. It's going to be fun," Celeste wrote, now hoping that she could have it with her soon-to-be husband.

"I'm tired at the end of the day; I want to sleep. What about surgery? Can we get you a new pipe or something?" Tiel asked frustration in his voice.

Celeste bit her bottom lip, unsure how to answer that. She never spoke about it to anyone, not even writing about it in her journal. It was too painful for her to revisit, although sometimes in her sleep, she relived it— the day she witnessed her mother slowly and painfully murdered.

"Well?" Tiel asked, snapping her out of her traumatic memory. She didn't realize he was studying her the whole time.

"It's not something surgery can fix. I want to speak; I just can't."

"Can't why?"

"Because I can't. I get dizzy and then scared. I feel like if I make a sound, something bad will happen," Celeste said, wondering if someone like Tiel Brightwell, who lacked consideration, could understand her plight.

"Hmm… what about if you don't make a sound? I'll make sure something bad does happen," Tiel asked with a patronizing tone, a playful smile on his lips. The way he held the notebook up to his lips, as if it were a guessing game, did not match the threat in his words.

Celeste blinked, unsure what to think or feel.

"What do you mean by that? Are you serious?" she demanded, wide-eyed. When he didn't look up from the notebook nor give her an answer, she reached out to touch his shoulders. But he grabbed hold of her wrist.

Celeste swallowed hard, panic rising in her chest as she felt his hand pressing harder and harder.

Celeste felt the detached demeanor like an iron mask of indifference. His eyes, even seeing her silent struggle, remained calm. There was a void in them that made him seem unreachable.

There was something horribly wrong with him.

Celeste pulled as hard as she could, trying not to let him see how much it hurt when he pushed the limits of her wrist like that, as if he would simply fold her hand inwards like boneless meat. In a sudden rush of intense pain, she quickly tried to stand up. But he twisted it sideways, forcing her to fall.

She breathed hard, feeling tears fall from her eyes as a familiar feeling of foreboding pinched the pit of her stomach. Celeste felt her heartbeat increase, sweat prickling at her brow, her vision began to blur, and her chest ached.

With her mouth open wide, Celeste tried to push whatever sound she could make out.

But try as she may, whatever it was she wanted to say it would not come.

Please! Please stop! Please I can't say it, I promise I'll do my best if you stop it. Please STOP IT!

"Tiel! Let go of her!" A pair of hands came along with a looming shadow, separating them almost in an instant.

It sent Celeste falling on her back, leaning against the other pillar of the pavilion. In the dark, she recognized Avond's tall figure and broad shoulders.

He grabbed hold of his brother's collar, pulling him up in one clean lift. While Tiel, who was one head shorter than him simply followed with his feet barely touching the ground. Celeste could see even in the darkness that the younger boy stood on his toes. 

With Avond's face only a few inches away from Tiel, he spoke with a low tone that sent shivers down Celeste's back. "I don't expect you to be a gentleman, but I don't expect this either. What do you think you're doing? Sending her home with bruises? What if she breaks it?"

"Will you calm down? I was just helping her. Right Celeste?" Tiel looked over to her. The look in his eyes was enough to send a message. Instead, she looked down, holding her wrist. It was still throbbing in pain.

"Don't bull**** me, you f******* p****." Avond said almost like a hiss.

"Oooh language. Now she can tell who's the field worker between us." Tiel said, almost as if he was bored with the interaction. Field worker? Celeste repeated in her mind. What does that mean? Why isn't he afraid?

Perhaps, this was a normal interaction between the two. But even if it was, Celeste guessed anyone would feel at least intimidated by his presence.

Avond held an air of danger and authority about him. But Tiel didn't seem to be affected at all.

"What? What are you contemplating?" Tiel demanded, almost like a challenge. "Are you going to throw me in the pond? Make me slightly uncomfortable as a punishment?"

Avond stared at Tiel as if he could drill a hole in his forehead. And then, like a change of wind, he smirked.

Avond pushed him to the ground, sending Tiel falling on his back on top of the sharp edges of the stairs. He grimaced, holding in the pain as he painfully put his hand on his back.

"I'm sorry about that, my brother is… an a******. For a lack of a better word." Avond said, helping Celeste up with one hand on her back. And although she could still feel the strange feeling of fear in her chest, she managed to smile at that. Indeed, there was no better word for him.

"Hmm, I'm happy I can make you smile. Here." Avond took her notebook from the ground and then handed it to her, "Dinner is ready. They've prepared the food and Father wants you to return at once."

"Ugh… what about me?" Tiel asked, now gaining his composure.

"What about you?" Avond asked in return, his tone icy. Celeste didn't dare look at him as she took Avond's offer to hold his arm. She walked away from Tiel, feeling safe beside this man she always found so handsome.

As they walked she could feel Tiel's gaze on her back and it sent her heart racing once again. She was lucky Avond came before he broke her wrist, but what would happen when they were all alone? And being married to him probably meant that those times would come again. And again. And again.

Celeste stared ahead, the fear she had felt before replaced by a darker feeling she had never felt before. Before she had been anxious about living in a new place, getting used to new rules, getting to know new people; stepping out of her comfort zone.

Now, compared to what she had discovered those fears were nothing in comparison.

Knowing there was no one to comfort her at home, Celeste unconsciously moved closer to Avond.

As if he knew how she felt, he placed a hand on hers.